Cry of the Gulls
by Keithan
Summary: If he was not yet torn in two, he knew, sooner or later he would be for no Elf could simply ignore such strong call. Love and devotion in all its pureness and simplicity. [fluff maybe? slight al]


a/n: oh my. I really did try to write something light and _happy_ after having written an angst-filled fic in my previous update. I tried to write some fluff, but then I realized that I was dealing with sea-longing here, and I can't really avoid melancholia in one part or another, so, light and happy doesn't really work alone. So, that fluff went right out of the window, well, maybe not all. ;) So after having been changed not only once or even twice, this is what I came up with. 

**_______________________________________________**

**Title: **_Cry of the Gulls  
_**Author: **Keithan  
**Disclaimers:** Lord of the Rings and its characters belongs to their respective owners.  
**Rating:** PG  
**Series: **1/1  
**Warnings: **None other than implied love between same gender.(mild slash; a/l)  
**Summary:** If he was not yet torn in two, he knew, sooner or later he would be for no Elf could simply ignore such strong call.   
**Notes: **This is book-verse. Set during the time when the Three Hunters together with the Dúnedain captured the fleet of Umbar. Though, thorough knowledge of the book isn't really necessary to understand this.  
_'Single quotation marks'_ are words spoken in Elvish, _"Double" _are in Common.

**_______________________________________________**

**CRY OF THE GULLS__________**  
_by Keithan_

The roar of battle was deafening. Swords clashed, metals upon metals, as shields and spears broke in splinters. Armors were penetrated as another life was soon ended. The rage of the battle was unmistakable. The Dúnedain, with the sons of Elrond, Thranduilion and a Dwarf, fought in earnest led by no less than Isildur's heir, himself, as they drove back their enemies. 

There at Pelargir laid the main fleet of Umbar. Their enemies were large in numbers and the Haradrim smiled still for they were certainly not a force to be reckoned with given such uneven odds.  

But Aragorn held fast, and so did the others. They still had more men that stood idle still, invisible to the eye. They were waiting for a command, a command that only he, as the last in the long line of Kings, could give.

Twirling his two white knives in his hand, Legolas easily sidestepped a broad sword and brought his right arm to an arc, the knife effectively slicing his opponent's throat, before thrusting his left hand to the other side, taking care of another incoming Haradrim.

His sharp senses made him aware that the others were holding their own fight well. Aragorn was locked in a deadly dance of death as Andúril glinted dangerously around the man, his fighting a lethal combination of Elven grace and technique with his own human strength and vigor. Gimli, he could not see, but the loud growls of the Dwarf told him that he was close by.

Yet amidst all this, amidst the sound of metals clanging, bows singing, knives slashing, and men crying their battle cries, some their last wail, another sound filled Legolas' ears, a sound that was clearly distinct in his sharp Elven hearing. 

Legolas turned sharply, avoiding what could have been a fatal blow. Using his momentum, he pivoted towards his enemy appearing behind him and thrust his two knives deeply. The southron was dead before he even dropped to the ground, leaving the Elf free for a single moment.

Finding a brief respite from his own battle, seeing no danger yet was near, he stopped and raised his eyes to the dark sky that now lacked its sun's light, for dawn had not come that day. Face full of wonder and amazement, he listened as, not far in the distance, the crying of the gulls could be heard. 

And alas! Their wailing voices spoke to him of the Sea and the sea-longing was then awakened in his yet young heart.

Even entranced as he was, he wasn't one to slack in battle for as soon as a threat presented itself, he tore his gaze away from the distance and focused them on the enemies at hand, dodging a sword strike and slashing out with his own two knives.

Not far from where he was standing, Aragorn, finding a chance, looked worriedly at him, noticing his brief glance to the skies. His heart became troubled as in his mind he knew of his friend's thoughts, knew that look in his face for he saw it painted on his features thrice already since they had set foot on Pelargir and heard the gulls' cries as clear as the sun would have been if it were present. He could only give a guess, yet he knew that such guess was as accurate as Legolas' own arrow.

Those gulls had sung their melody to the Elf's immortal heart bringing with it the melody of the Sea.

At this point, having the two words, Elf and Sea, in one thought did not bring any peace to his already war-troubled heart. 

Legolas had heard the cries, the cry of the gulls that dominated the shore hunting for food. Aragorn barely had the idea what the effect this had on the Elf. But upon seeing the look on the immortal's face, a look that betrayed his inner feelings to a Man raised among Elves, feelings not only of awe but of deeper longing as well, he knew that it had something to do with the Sea and its proximity. 

Aragorn swung his sword to parry a blow, all the while thinking that even if he would not lose the Elf in battle, he would eventually have to lose him when Legolas would decide to set sail to the West, which now seemed highly a possibility.

Letting out a frustrated cry, Aragorn fought even more, his troubled thoughts and conflicting emotions fueling his moves.

On his side of the battle, Legolas was momentarily distracted as he heard Aragorn releasing a fierce battle cry, different than before, and he suddenly felt the change in the Man's fighting. There was more power, more drive and less cool. At other times, he would have considered this a dangerous turn, but it seemed that Aragorn had used this sudden flow of adrenaline to his advantage as he fought more ferociously and became deadlier than ever.

The next events passed by in a blur to the Elf, as he himself was a blur, a blur of light in the sea of darkness, engaged as he was in a dangerous dance of death. Yet all the while, in the back of his mind, even as the Shadow Host, the Dead, called upon by Elendil's heir, inflicted their terror to the enemies, the cry of the gulls became a loud insistent buzz in his ears as the roar of the battle eventually died down.

The black sails were being blown softly by the wind up the river Anduin. And the oars below the deck were now wielded by free men to hasten their coming to Minas Tirith. 

Aragorn had been worrying that they might be too late. There was no telling if they weren't. And that was not a comforting thought to all.

They had successfully captured the main fleet of Umbar, fifty great ships at least. Aragorn had sent to each of the great ships one of the Dúnedain. The Men that were gathered, from Ethir, Lebennin, and Lamedon, led by Angbor, then inhabited the ships and prepared to set sail to the aid of the city. And now as they sailed to Minas Tirith, hearts were troubled and heavy with worry and anticipation for the battle that they were sure to face.

_The greatest battle of their time. _

But Legolas' thoughts drifted far from war, at least for the time being.

The Elf stood alone out in the deck, his eyes cast far away. In his ears, the crying of the gulls, fading slowly away, became a constant tugging in his heart.

Alas indeed!

For was it not the Lady's warning that he should beware of the gulls' cry? Yet he heeded it not for the thought of battle and of aiding the Heir of Isildur was foremost on his mind.

Unknown to him, Aragorn stood watching him. In his eyes lay a sorrow that was brought by the longing that he could clearly see in the Elf's face. The fear for Minas Tirith was still gnawing in his heart yet he could not simply put aside the fear he then felt for his Eldar companion. 

_The fear of losing him._

He grew troubled as he witnessed his friend's distress grow over such a thing as the cries of the gulls. Were he not learned in the ways of the Eldar, he would have not given meaning to Legolas standing at the end of the ship, his eyes pinned to the distant horizon. But he was and he knew Legolas enough to know that what the Elf was hearing was the distant echo of the gulls' cries that still reached his own ears. 

And his heart wept with the mere thought of it, for what it meant went far beyond than admiration for the foreign sounds.

Surely, there must be something that could be done?

Legolas felt Aragorn approach, heard the quiet footsteps of someone raised and trained by and among Elves. He did nothing to acknowledge it, only waiting for the Man to reach him. In his eyes, he saw the other black ships, and beyond it, he knew the Sea lay. 

"Did not the Lady warn me of this?" He said, not facing Aragorn, knowing that of all his companions then, the Man was the only one capable of understanding him. "'Legolas Greenleaf, long under tree,' she said. 'In joy thou hast lived. Beware of the Sea! If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore, thy heart shall then rest in the forest no more.'" 

Aragorn clenched his fist, not saying anything.

Legolas recited the lines as if he was saying them to himself. Reminding himself of the warning that he had only now understood.

The words seemed to echo for it brought a silence that was unbearable and together with it, a certain degree of sadness. It covered them in a blanket of melancholy as the meaning behind those lines became painfully clear.

In the distance, the black sails of the other ships were nearly invisible in the darkness of the day.

A sigh barely escaped Legolas' lips before turning to face the Man. He was halfway turning when he suddenly found himself enveloped in the strong arms of the mortal from behind. 

Surprised, the Elf visibly stiffened. His eyes blinked once then twice before realizing and recognizing that it was Aragorn's familiar presence that was pressed behind his back as he was held in an embrace. Willing himself to relax, he did and their forms fit almost perfectly.

Aragorn merely held him, almost as if he was a child preventing his father from going somewhere that he must go. He buried his face in the blond hair, inhaling the distinct scent that was purely Legolas. 

The Elf closed his eyes, forgetting for the moment the sound of the gulls, now unheard to a normal mortal's ears, and the stirring of the sea-longing in his heart. 

'Please, Legolas, listen not to their cries,' Aragorn whispered in Elvish, almost desperately. 'Harken not to their call.'

Legolas sighed. 

The water of the river splashed against the sides of the ships as they coursed through them. 

'What would you have me do?' he asked, his voice tinged with sadness as he faced the reality that he had indeed been summoned by the Call of the Sea. If he was not yet torn in two, he knew, sooner or later he would be for no Elf could simply ignore such strong call.

'I would have you cover your ears and cover them myself if `tis not enough.'

'I fear you already too late, Aragorn,' Legolas said softly. 

The implications of those words were certainly not lost on the Man and grief filled him immediately. His embrace, tender and gentle, tightened possessively. He closed his eyes as if to block himself from the reality that the immortal in his arms would then sail to Valinor, leaving behind all that the Elf had in Middle-earth, including himself.

'Would only I have the power to forget their cries,' Legolas continued softly.

'And I the power to erase them from thine memory,' The Man thought aloud. To Legolas, he asked, fearing the answer, 'And the Call?'

'The Call has been uttered and sung in my heart and the longing has been stirred,' Legolas answered, losing himself in the Man's tender embrace. 'And I fear it would not go back to slumber now that it has been awakened.'

'Ai! That is a wound in my heart, for now your own heart lies not in Middle-earth where I will dwell till the rest of my days,' Aragorn said, voice soft yet despaired.

In the Man's eyes, the black sails of the other ships seemed overwhelming. They flapped wildly as they were being blown by the winds northward. In the darkness of the sunless day, the blackness of those sails threatened to engulf him.

Legolas flinched inwardly of being reminded of the Man's mortal years. "What then would you ask of me?" He asked in Common. He raised his eyes to the path that their ship had sailed, the other black ships close behind in their trail. He was imagining the Sea beyond it and was struggling to understand the longing to behold it with his own eyes that he suddenly felt.

_With just the mere hearing of the cry of the gull._

"I am no king of your heart, Greenleaf. Even if I am, I would ask nothing of you," Aragorn said sighing, defeated. Slipping back to Elvish, he continued, 'Although my heart is grieved to know that I would be parted from you when thou take sail.'

Legolas frowned in thought. He had not really thought of that. Although the gulls still sing their song into his heart, singing to him of the Sea, not once did the thought of leaving Middle-earth crossed his mind, at least not yet. 

He longed to see the Sea, hear its waves as they challenged the rocks, crashing into them fiercely. He'd want to see it in its calmness, as he had heard in tales and songs that had him entranced as he listened to them. Yet he had not really given much thought of departing Middle-earth.

But the sea-longing was but young yet in his also young heart. Legolas knew it would only take some time before the desire to sail West would take shape in his heart. If that happened, would he be able to sail? Would he be able to leave behind all that he had known and loved? 

Memories of the quest ran unbidden through his mind, memories that were treasured and kept dear. 

The hobbits, Gandalf, Boromir, and Gimli and Aragorn...

Each remembrance was so vivid that he seemed to live it out all over again and he once more felt the grief at the thought of Boromir and a smile was on his face when he thought of the Dwarf.

_Stubborn Dwarf._

 Never would he have thought that such friendship could be. He would have laughed it off before. Yet now...

So much had happened. 

Friendships had been formed, unbreakable bonds of fellowship that could never be put asunder.

Love had taken its roots in the heart of the Fellowship and old love had been nurtured and had grown.

'Tell me, I'm wrong. Deny the words I have said.' Aragorn pleaded when Legolas remained silent, begging the Elf to say that he would not leave for the West. 'Please.'

It pained Legolas to hear such sorrow-filled words from Aragorn when he wanted nothing more than happiness for him.

_Aragorn._

Would he be able to leave all that behind?

_Would he be able to leave him behind?_

Would he be able to live knowing that he was leaving behind the greatest of friendships...

Aragorn tightened his hold a bit when the Elf didn't answer, now assured of the fact that Legolas would indeed sail to the West, silently accepting such reality.

...the greatest of love that he had ever known?

It pained his heart to even think of it.

Would he be able? 

_Nay._

He wouldn't. 

He could not.

Legolas shook his head. Indeed he could not for it would even pain him more. He then covered Aragorn's arms to encircle and enclose them in his own embrace, slightly leaning back into the Man. He still had so much to hold on to in Middle-earth.

_Just like the one he's holding now._

Closing his eyes, he just abandoned himself, even for a while, within the circle of Aragorn's arms. The thought of war, the Sea, and the darkness was pushed back in the recesses of his mind.

'Nay, nay, Aragorn.' He said at last, bringing Aragorn out of his self-pity. 'There is yet time left for me here. For even now in your embrace, the cries of the gulls are but distant echoes in my ears and the Call of the Sea but a forgotten longing. Nay, my king, my heart lies still with thee.'

Aragorn brought his face deeper into the soft mantle of Legolas' hair, tightening his hold briefly, as he seemingly wanted to mold himself into the other. In his eyes, tears were conceived but didn't fall.

'You bring me hope still. And I'm glad,' The Man whispered just above a pointed ear. 'For I am not yet ready to let you go, and pray, I fear I never will be.'

Legolas smiled unseen to Aragorn. His heart deeply touched of the devotion that he heard in the Man's words. "Perhaps Elessar, you will never have to be."

Aragorn lifted his face from Legolas' hair and gently turned him around so he faced him. He held both of Legolas' shoulders lightly, his eyes boring into the other's silver blue ones. "Do not give me much hope, Master Elf," He said. In his eyes, the fear of hoping was clearly shown. "For I will not have the strength to let go of such hope once given, just as I would have no strength to see you sail to the West."

Legolas reached out a hand and cupped Aragorn's cheek, feeling the coarse texture of facial hair. 'I give you not false hope,_ adan_. For what I say is true,' He said. 

Aragorn leaned in to the caress. 'How could there be truth in your words when I will now only wait for the moment your heart desires to sail West, as all your kin wont to do.' He raised a hand to cover Legolas' own in his face. 'You heard the gulls. You heard the Call. It is but a matter of time.'

He searched the Elf's eyes for the denial that he knew would not be there. He knew how strongly Elves feel for the Sea once the longing had been stirred. And most importantly, he knew the sorrow, the grief, and incompleteness that came when that longing was not answered.

But Legolas surprised him, as in his eyes bore, beneath the longing, a light of amused understanding.

'You will never have to bear me leaving these shores. You shall not live, Elessar, wondering if the day has come for me to depart and sail,' Then, pulling Aragorn's face closer, he leaned his forehead against the Man's. In a whisper, he said, 'I will stay for as long as your mortal heart beats. As long as the King of Gondor draws breath, I will remain in these shores.'

Aragorn's eyes widened. He was too surprised to say something, too overwhelmed and unbelieving. Dropping any kind of formality between them, he exclaimed, 'Nay, my heart, that is too much! I cannot ask you such a thing!' 

'You asked it not for it is what I give, what I choose. To stay here for as long as you need me.' Legolas smiled to assure him. In his heart, he knew that the longing of the Sea would not cease, yet for now, he gave his word not out of duty but out of his own devotion. Aragorn was but mortal while he, on the other hand, had eternal years ahead of him. 

The Sea could wait.

Aragorn closed his eyes, just feeling his head on the Elf's, the porcelain touch on his face and his mere presence close to his own. He brought a hand behind Legolas' neck. 'I fear that would be for as long as I live,' He whispered.

'Exactly,' Legolas said smiling, a playful note in his voice and a twinkle in his eyes.

The man chuckled softly. 'You give too much for me, son of Thranduil. Too much. I am not worthy of such, still, why?'

Legolas only sighed and looked down, a shadow of a wistful smile on his lips. He knew that the Dúnadan knew fully well of the devotion he willingly offers, to match as well the Man's own dedication to him. 'Do you honestly not know? What would you have done in my place?'

Aragorn sobered up. 'I would have done the same.' He whispered.

Legolas then asked, 'Why?'

Smiling slightly, the Man answered, 'Do you not know?'

'Then there's your answer.' 

Aragorn parted their foreheads slightly. With his free hand, he brought a finger under Legolas chin and lifted his head up. Their eyes met and each searched the other's soul. 

_And, not for the first time, feelings concealed were unveiled and revealed._

Aragorn's eyes softened, and smiled, seeing something there that was beautiful and pure as Legolas was. 'Such a great sacrifice I can only accept if given freely,' He whispered. 'For this I thank you.'

Legolas shook his head, smiling genuinely. 'You, yourself, have offered me much, son of Arathorn. Such fierce loyalty and devotion could be repaid with no less. Command me, and I shall obey, my Lord.'

'But I know what the Sea Longing brings when the Call is left unanswered. That is too much to give. I've heard of the tales. Of the longing to sail away to fair lands of the West, of the great sadness it brings...'

Legolas suddenly laughed. And in their intimacy, it seemed out of place. Caressing the Man's face before removing his hand, he looked at Aragorn, the laughter subsiding. 'Your presence is enough to silence the call, or at least lessen its intensity,' He said. 'Think you that I have no happiness here that I would long that much to desire to set sail now? Nay. I have you still, and that is saying much. To have the Fellowship and...' He searched Aragorn's eyes deeply, then, in a soft voice, continued, '... To have your love is saying much more.'

Aragorn smiled softly. 'You warm my heart and lighten it in these dark hours,' He said. 'I was afraid I already have lost you to the Sea.'

The soft laugh of Legolas was melodious and pleasant to the ears. 'Never, my Lord, never.'

Aragorn brought his hands to the side of the Elf's head, framing his face. He looked straight into Legolas' eyes, bidding him see the sincerity behind his next words. "Then for that, I'm glad," He simply said and it was enough for Legolas to see just how much the Ranger deeply felt thankful and relieved. Then he brought his lips down to the Elf's forehead, placing a light, feather kiss.

After one last brush of his hand to Legolas' cheek, with a tenderness that spoke to the immortal's heart, the Dúnadan then stepped back, placing a decent distance between them.

'I bid you then, son of Thranduil, I bid you stand beside me for honor and glory, for friendship and for love. I bid you fight by my side in the battles that we would face.' Aragorn said, his voice asking.

"You need not command it my Lord, for I willingly go to whither your road may lead," Legolas answered in Common, his voice full of ardor. "Our paths had long been intertwined, aye, in both friendship and love," He said this in a whisper, confirming any of the Man's hesitations.

Aragorn's eyes softened and he smiled.

And Legolas needed no more words to know that smile spoke of so much more beyond gratefulness. 

He smiled back.

A fresh new breeze blew over them, catching up in the sails and urging the ships faster. Legolas' blond hair lifted slightly, some being blown to obscure his face.

With gentleness that he knew not he possessed, Aragorn lifted a hand and brushed the offending blond locks behind a delicately pointed ear, not once breaking their gazes. He immediately drew his hand back. 

It was a futile attempt to hide their private moment for they had been standing out in the open, high on the rear deck of the ship for sometime, but they cared not. The Men from Lebennin, Ethir, and Lamedon, in their ship and even those in the other ships close by, stood witness to this simple show of Love.

For that was what it was. Love in all its simplicity.

So simple that in its simplicity, many might not even understand how such love could exist, much more between two people that, for them, were clearly not meant to be.

The Dúnedain, witnessing their Chieftain and the Elf, merely smiled at the pureness of it all.

Man and Elf stood side by side, and from them, one could see their silent commitment to one another, as friends or more, none could really then tell. Yet one thing was sure, great love bound them together.

That love then brought hope to these silent witnesses as their strength was renewed upon beholding such display of pure, untainted affection amidst the darkness of their time. And they realized that for such purity of love and goodness of it all were they fighting. 

In those dark days, where all that was good was welcomed, the Men simply stood in awe as such strength was shown in their captains' unadulterated affection, which otherwise might be seen as weak and even amoral to Man's belief and culture.

Yet there was a light there that couldn't be denied seeing.

After a moment, the Dwarf joined his companions and the two broke their stare to look at him, a soft smile on each of their faces.

As Isildur's heir, the Elf and the Dwarf stood side by side, great was their friendship that was then seen.

Lord Aragorn stepped closer to the Elf, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

The blond warrior looked first to the hand before he raised his eyes to Aragorn's.

And between them, such love as the Men saw could not be forgotten. It was this and the friendship that bound the Three Hunters together that strengthened their will and resolve.

As for Aragorn, his troubled heart was then put at ease, at least for that matter, for he had been given new hope when his own was nearly running out. He turned his attentions and worries back to Minas Tirith, now more confident with the assurance that his friends stood beside him. They still had a battle to win. 

As for his devotion, his love and loyalty for the Elf was not something one could ever put into words. As they stood there, his hand on the Elf's shoulder, he was content, knowing that his love, and any love between them, was such a love that needed not saying, wanting nothing in return. It was a love that was just simple as that.

Legolas then looked backed towards the side of Anduin that opened up to the Sea. His ears could no longer hear the sound of the gulls which he knew was frolicking in the distant shores. The Call was not fully silenced but it receded in his heart as he was enveloped in Aragorn's love and devotion and now, also Gimli's friendship and loyalty. He looked up to Aragorn and met his eyes.

There was an understanding there that needed no explanation. Silently, each prepared themselves for the battle they were to face and face it they would, side by side, strengthened by the love and support each offered.

Great were the days to come and Man, Elf, and Dwarf had their parts written down in history.

As for the Elf, the cry of the gulls still sang its melody to his heart, singing to him of the Sea. Yet while the rule of King Elessar lasted, not once did he think of departing.

He was bound to Middle-earth not by his words alone, but by his unconditional love to the Lord of the White Tree, the King of both Arnor and Gondor.

In the distance, the gulls continued their flight and hunt for food in the shores of the great Sea. Their cries were now unheard to the ships that left for battle in Minas Tirith.

Yet never again was it fully unheard to the immortal prince's heart.

**_02.02.04_**

*Adan - man

**Author's Notes:**

This piece of work has been finished, changed, re-written, changed again, for a period of time, until I had in my drafts four different dates at the bottom of whole thing. Lol. Maybe, this wasn't just my cup of tea since I've been coming up with more angst in my latest works. Saying that, I hope you understand when I say I feel differently about this fic than others. Although I don't know what I mean by that. Hope you enjoyed reading.  
Feedbacks please! They are really welcomed, really, no doubt in that. So drop me a line.

I'd be writing more hopefully.So next time then..  
Thanks!! 


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